And since I have a really busy week ahead to which there is as yet no rhyme or reason, I'm using my Monday and this space to utter random things and clear my head. To wit:
Shivnarine Chanderpaul > Andrew Strauss
What rabid strain of delusion are the creators of this show suffering to think they can recreate the insane awesomeness that is Absolutely Fabulous?
When I buy a house, it shall have a lanai, and The Lanai shall be the Sacred Place where my family/group of friends/whoever the hell is living there goes to resolve conflicts and gain perspective, just like the Golden Girls did. It shall also be the place whose better light we use to answer the question "What is that? Like...a rash...or a bunch or pimples or...?"
Ah these Londoners and their 'T-shirt weather', which is apparently anything warmer than 'arctic blast'.
What the hell kind of g-ddamn Spring is this? Outside looks like a scene from Pan's Labyrinth.
It would be great if a funding proposal could consist of just the words: "Me bright. You send money. Me do things."
How can I already have my year planned right up to Christmas? Man, 2009 is going to be the shortest year ever.
If another person pulls that "equality means never having to say you're sorry for hitting back a woman"* bullshit I'm going to eat Aretha Franklin's hat.
There's a bird in our little lagoon whose call sounds exactly like a snore. Or maybe she's watching a Clive Owen film.
Yogurt is what evil would taste like.
Guy pushing the stroller: I can see you have an infant in your giant, starship Enterprise pram, but as much as I would love to fling myself into oncoming traffic to accommodate you, I don't think room to tiptoe along the edge of the pavement is too much to ask.
Chuck Bass wants to eat my soul. Don't look directly at him!
I'm sure there's more stuff in there. But I think I have to get on with life now.
*Much more on this in a subsequent post.